noticed. Should I kiss him? The way he was looking at me, with those honey-golden eyes reflecting sunlight like it was their job, I wanted to more than anything.
As the moment passed, Henry dropped his hand and—I wasn’t imagining it—sighed with regret as he plucked the shopping list from my fingers.
“I don’t even know what half this stuff is,” he mumbled as he looked the list over. He shoved it in the door. “I’ll pick you up—” he began, already reaching to switch on the engine, and I threw caution to the wind.
My fingers circled his wrist, and Henry lifted his head, startled. The intensity with which he considered me made my heart skip a beat. It’s just a kiss , I told myself. Nothing more . Worst thing that could happen was he’d say no. But Henry’s pupils were blown, and he was breathing too fast. He wanted this, I was sure of it. Counting on his humanitarian side that he’d at least not punch a guy with a broken nose, I leaned in and, ignoring the flaring burn of my ribs, kissed him on the lips.
As if it was a blow to the gut, Henry expelled a harsh breath against my mouth. His lips moved like he was saying something, but there was no sound. I blinked and saw surprise in Henry’s wide-open eyes. Had I made a mistake? Before there was a chance to pull away, Henry grabbed my shoulder with his left hand, held my jaw with his right, and kissed me back. At first he hesitated, barely putting any pressure against my lips. To coax him out of his shell a little, I pushed my tongue gently against his lower lip, and he made a low humming sound that tickled my mouth.
Very quietly, not moving away, he said, “I’m afraid to kiss you.”
“You’re fine, you’re doing great, and we don’t—” I stopped when Henry huffed a small laugh.
“No, I mean….” He gently pressed his thumb next to the stitches on my chin.
“Oh.” I’d completely forgotten about that. Again. “It doesn’t hurt,” I told him lamely, but I imagined he didn’t exactly want to kiss a bruised face.
Henry smirked like he knew what I was thinking. “Okay, then.” Swiping his thumb over my bottom lip and making it tingle, Henry eased off to trail the rest of my bruises, looking them over with such affection, it made something dangerous swell in my belly. Then he finally kissed me like he meant it, like he wanted it. I parted for him easily, and the instant heat of it had me clutching his biceps. Henry worked his fingers through my hair, tugging a little, fingertips massaging my scalp. He kept making lovely little noises whenever we shifted to deepen the kiss, his mouth confident on my mouth, tongue insistent but not forceful against mine.
Breathless, Henry gasped, “Oh, my God,” and pulled away enough to look at me. He kept touching my face, my hair, my neck. “That was—” He blinked at me owlishly, out of words. I couldn’t stop smiling at how gorgeously flushed he was.
“Good?” I offered when he still said nothing.
“No,” he immediately corrected me. “Better than good. Amazing.” A hand to the back of my head, he made me lean my forehead against his. “So amazing.” Gently, I kissed his lips again, once, twice, and sat up, my ribs objecting painfully.
“We should probably—” I indicated the shop we were parked in front of, the bright sun that still shone even though it felt like an eon had passed.
Rubbing a hand over his face, he said, “Yeah,” and laughed a little self-deprecatingly. “We probably should.”
I handed him one of my credit cards for the groceries despite his protests and slipped out of the car, even though there was nothing I wanted more than to drive home and kiss him all afternoon. Henry reversed, lifting his fingers off the wheel in a small wave when he saw me watching, and drove off.
I NSIDE THE store a girl with a piercing through her bottom lip gave me a knowing grin, causing me to flush as pink as Henry always did.
The shop was huge, and it took me
As the moment passed, Henry dropped his hand and—I wasn’t imagining it—sighed with regret as he plucked the shopping list from my fingers.
“I don’t even know what half this stuff is,” he mumbled as he looked the list over. He shoved it in the door. “I’ll pick you up—” he began, already reaching to switch on the engine, and I threw caution to the wind.
My fingers circled his wrist, and Henry lifted his head, startled. The intensity with which he considered me made my heart skip a beat. It’s just a kiss , I told myself. Nothing more . Worst thing that could happen was he’d say no. But Henry’s pupils were blown, and he was breathing too fast. He wanted this, I was sure of it. Counting on his humanitarian side that he’d at least not punch a guy with a broken nose, I leaned in and, ignoring the flaring burn of my ribs, kissed him on the lips.
As if it was a blow to the gut, Henry expelled a harsh breath against my mouth. His lips moved like he was saying something, but there was no sound. I blinked and saw surprise in Henry’s wide-open eyes. Had I made a mistake? Before there was a chance to pull away, Henry grabbed my shoulder with his left hand, held my jaw with his right, and kissed me back. At first he hesitated, barely putting any pressure against my lips. To coax him out of his shell a little, I pushed my tongue gently against his lower lip, and he made a low humming sound that tickled my mouth.
Very quietly, not moving away, he said, “I’m afraid to kiss you.”
“You’re fine, you’re doing great, and we don’t—” I stopped when Henry huffed a small laugh.
“No, I mean….” He gently pressed his thumb next to the stitches on my chin.
“Oh.” I’d completely forgotten about that. Again. “It doesn’t hurt,” I told him lamely, but I imagined he didn’t exactly want to kiss a bruised face.
Henry smirked like he knew what I was thinking. “Okay, then.” Swiping his thumb over my bottom lip and making it tingle, Henry eased off to trail the rest of my bruises, looking them over with such affection, it made something dangerous swell in my belly. Then he finally kissed me like he meant it, like he wanted it. I parted for him easily, and the instant heat of it had me clutching his biceps. Henry worked his fingers through my hair, tugging a little, fingertips massaging my scalp. He kept making lovely little noises whenever we shifted to deepen the kiss, his mouth confident on my mouth, tongue insistent but not forceful against mine.
Breathless, Henry gasped, “Oh, my God,” and pulled away enough to look at me. He kept touching my face, my hair, my neck. “That was—” He blinked at me owlishly, out of words. I couldn’t stop smiling at how gorgeously flushed he was.
“Good?” I offered when he still said nothing.
“No,” he immediately corrected me. “Better than good. Amazing.” A hand to the back of my head, he made me lean my forehead against his. “So amazing.” Gently, I kissed his lips again, once, twice, and sat up, my ribs objecting painfully.
“We should probably—” I indicated the shop we were parked in front of, the bright sun that still shone even though it felt like an eon had passed.
Rubbing a hand over his face, he said, “Yeah,” and laughed a little self-deprecatingly. “We probably should.”
I handed him one of my credit cards for the groceries despite his protests and slipped out of the car, even though there was nothing I wanted more than to drive home and kiss him all afternoon. Henry reversed, lifting his fingers off the wheel in a small wave when he saw me watching, and drove off.
I NSIDE THE store a girl with a piercing through her bottom lip gave me a knowing grin, causing me to flush as pink as Henry always did.
The shop was huge, and it took me
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